


The wolf comes running

by goddammit_charlie



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Blood, M/M, Sort of Violence, Sort of dubious consent, gendered slurs, post Charlie Work, starts off weird and turns into pwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 02:24:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5850265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddammit_charlie/pseuds/goddammit_charlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Charlie Work, things are a little off between Mac and Dennis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The wolf comes running

Dennis had hoped that the shared laughter when Dee fell off the joke stool might have smoothed things over, pushed the incident out of Mac's mind. He is disappointed when Mac avoids eye contact and doesn't speak a word on the walk home - clearly he is still sulking, which Dennis finds endlessly tiresome. When they get back to their apartment Dennis heads for the kitchen and returns with two beers, offering one to Mac with a wry half-grin that's usually all it takes for his misdeeds to be forgiven. Today, however, Mac dismisses the proffered drink and disappears into the bathroom without a word. Dennis hears the shower running and he flops onto the sofa, downing the first beer in a few quick pulls and cracking open the other. He looks down at his thin fingers closed around the bottle, and studies the dark blood crusted under his nails.

He's not sure why he attacked Mac today. That is to say, Mac is a seriously annoying guy who regularly makes Dennis feel angry enough to murder him... but he's not sure why today's specific irritation made him actually lash out. It's the cowardice, he decides, the refusal to meet his eye, the head-in-the-sand attitude towards any remotely difficult conversation. If Dennis himself were to be entirely honest, he'd probably admit that it was the continued denial of one awkward conversation in particular that really made his temper flare, but Dennis has never shied away from a little hypocrisy and he'd prefer to keep that thought secret even from himself. Whatever the reason, Mac's latest transgression hadn't just made Dennis angry; it had made him savage, wild, and he'd been overwhelmed with the urge to rip the fucker's throat out with his teeth. Really, Dennis thinks, Mac should be thankful that he'd come away with just a few shallow scratches.

Absent-mindedly chewing his nails, dimly registering the metallic tang of blood on his tongue, Dennis lets his mind wander back to the keg room and the impulse that had flickered across his mind as he lunged at his roommate. He imagines himself as a wild animal, a sleek and lethal predator, striking with effortless precision. He imagines his mouth on Mac's neck, feeling the warmth of him, the scratch of stubble, the throbbing pulse racing beneath his lips and tongue and teeth... 

When the bathroom door opens and Mac emerges, Dennis is jolted out of his daydream to find that his dick is rock-hard against the seam of his jeans and his roommate is looking at him strangely, hair damp and freshly-towelled, skin glistening, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. After an internal scramble to collect his composure Dennis shifts a little, takes a quick breath and tries to harden his eyes into a glare.

"What?" he demands, as Mac continues to stare at him.

"Uh, nothing... um, you just seemed a bit dazed. Are you feeling OK? You look kind of flushed." Mac never could let a sulk get in the way of his mother hen instincts. The hot shower has opened up the scratches a little, glittering rubies of fresh blood welling up here and there. Dennis watches as one of the beads swells to breaking point, trembles for a moment and drops, rolling a crimson trail down to his jawline. Mac feels the cool trickle against his hot cheek and swipes his fingertips across it, smearing blood into his stubble. He glances at his bloodied hand, considers wiping it on the white towel, thinks better of it and carelessly pops his fingers into his mouth and licks them clean. Dennis is transfixed, and Mac misinterprets his intense gaze.

"Hey, it's not gross if it's your own blood!" Mac points out defensively.

When Dennis gets to his feet and takes a step forward, Mac sees the shape straining against his jeans and flushes scarlet. 

"What..." he begins as Dennis moves closer. He is acutely aware of his own nakedness under the flimsy towel that he clutches white-knuckled as his friend glides into his personal space, still staring with that weird spaced-out look. 

"You've just... you've got a little... _here_." Dennis's voice is dry and unsteady, as is the hand that he raises to Mac's cheek. Mac's heart is racing, unsure whether to expect another clawing or a caress. Dennis's thumb rubs at the smudge of blood, which stubbornly remains. Slowly, so slowly, Dennis leans in. Mac is now holding his whole body rigid, panic clouding his thoughts as he stands rabbit-in-headlights frozen under Dennis's advance. He tells himself to pull away quick, to jump back and laugh and dash into the safety of his room, but his mind seems to have lost connection with his legs and surely Dennis isn't actually going to _kiss_ him... 

Mac's right, sort of. Dennis leans in, ignoring his friend's faintly trembling lips, and sets his mouth against Mac's jaw. He presses his tongue against the rough stubble and tastes soap and skin and blood. He draws his tongue up Mac's cheek, a slow damp caress, and when he pulls away the smudge is clean gone. He steps back, licking his lips and fixing his heavy hooded eyes on Mac's startled gaze.

"That..." Mac finally says, after a long shaky intake of breath, "... _that_ was definitely gross."

~

Mac hurries to his room, slamming the door behind him and taking some more deep breaths. He has no idea why Dennis did... that... but he knows the unmistakable lust he'd seen and it thrills and terrifies him. He's still clinging to the towel at his waist as if his life depended on it, and now he unwraps it from around his hips and briskly dries off the last beads of water from his skin. He avoids his crotch entirely, pretending not to notice the erection that's been growing since he first stepped out of the bathroom and saw that look on Dennis's face. He had pretended to be clueless, but he's seen Dennis look like that before - just once or twice, when they were wasted horny teenagers helping each other out, but he's replayed those nights in his mind enough times to know that look anywhere. Mac had thought he saw it flicker under Dennis's rage when he'd clawed him earlier, and had assumed he was mistaken, but now he knows he was right. The dirty fucker had been totally turned on by attacking him, Mac thinks. He raises one hand to his scratched cheek thoughtfully.

Dennis has returned to the sofa and is wondering what Mac made of his advance. He glances at Mac's closed bedroom door and pictures him jerking off just on the other side, releasing the tension Dennis had built so masterfully, biting his lips to keep from crying Dennis's name. Dennis shifts uncomfortably, his dick starting to ache with desire, and he clears his mind and tries to regain control of his rebellious body. He's almost back in control when Mac's door opens, and he's able to meet his roommate's eye with a casual smirk that belies his cartwheeling stomach as Mac approaches the sofa. He's half-dressed, shirtless in jeans and bare feet, hair brushed but not slicked back, so it's already starting to fluff up as it dries. The jeans must have fit him when he was still losing all that disgusting "mass", and now that he's back in better shape than ever they're hanging loosely, barely held up by the gentle jut of his hipbones. Dennis recognises the underwear visible beneath, knows Mac must have stolen them from him, makes a mental note to be angry about that later when he's not so desperately turned on. 

Mac stands in front of him, just close enough that Dennis has to tilt his head back to make eye contact from his seated position. 

"So are you going to admit it?" Mac is pleased with how steady his voice sounds, almost confident. He folds his arms casually and lets a smirk tug at the edge of his mouth.

"Admit what?" Dennis is thrown off balance and genuinely has no idea what Mac is talking about.

"That the steak and airmiles scheme was my idea."

Dennis had almost forgotten about the original argument, and takes a moment to catch up. He actually couldn't care less any more, but he's intrigued to see where this is going so he plays along. "You had nothing to do with it, bitch. The idea was mine."

"Oh yeah? I think you're remembering it wrong, _bitch_." Mac steps forward and looms over Dennis, then reaches out before Dennis has time to process what's happening, takes one curly lock of his hair between finger and thumb and tugs it gently but firmly enough to hurt. After a couple more tugs he lets the curl spring back to its former position. Dennis claps a hand to his head in amazed horror, and Mac suppresses the urge to laugh.

"Did you just pull my fucking hair?" 

Mac simply smirks, and Dennis curls his lips in a snarl. His mind has finally caught up with the situation now - Mac is trying to make him angry. The realisation sends thrills fluttering through his stomach, and he tries to recapture the animal rage that drove him earlier. It shouldn't be difficult - Dennis knows he always has a strong current of rage bubbling very close to the surface, and it's easy to plunge into. He leaps to his feet and Mac takes a step back, his bravado faltering for a moment as Dennis's glare burns white-hot. 

"Don't you dare pussy out on me now, McDonald!" 

Dennis takes a swipe at Mac's bare chest, but Mac catches his wrist easily and shoves him back until he almost trips over the sofa. Mac allows himself to grin openly as Dennis's face reddens. His grin is quickly extinguished when Dennis whips his palm round in a stinging slap that leaves a glowing hot handprint on his face. While Mac is stunned by the bitch-slap Dennis swings his other hand out to rake his sharp nails down Mac's shoulder, scoring three jagged lines that slowly begin to seep with fresh blood. Mac grunts in pain or surprise and shoves Dennis again with enough force to make him stagger, but not fall. Dennis is suddenly aware that Mac is holding back, avoiding using his full strength, and this condescension makes him genuinely angry. Now the wild bloodlust that he felt in the keg room washes over him again, making him want to sink his teeth into Mac's soft flesh, to spill his blood and revel in it like a savage creature. He screams as he throws himself at his opponent. 

Mac recognises the wild-eyed lust he'd seen earlier and feels his own body responding, thrumming to Dennis's frequency, breathlessly excited for whatever is coming next. Dennis's hand clamps around his throat, surprising strength in those skinny pianist's fingers, and the momentum of his charge rushes Mac backwards until he is slammed against the wall with enough force to knock the breath out of him. His head knocks against the wall with a thud as Dennis redoubles his grip on his throat. Mac thrashes and gasps, sparks dazzling his vision as he fights for breath, his hands coming up to claw at Dennis, tearing his shirt, ripping it away from the bare skin beneath. He tries to slash at Dennis with his nails but they aren't sharp enough to leave anything more than grazes. 

This is not Dennis's first time choking someone, far from it, and he definitely wants Mac conscious to continue the fun, so he eventually releases his grip and allows Mac to gulp down a few heaving breaths while Dennis sheds the torn shirt that hangs over his shoulders. Before Mac can recover enough to retaliate, Dennis swoops in on his throat again with his mouth this time. Open-mouthed he draws his tongue and teeth across Mac's shuddering neck, feeling the frantic pulse hammering just below his skin.

Mac is not being kissed; he's being devoured. Dennis's teeth are scraping him raw, and all he wants is more, more pressure, more pain. He needs it sharper, more intense. He tries to communicate this through panting half-cries that can't be distinguished as words, and he doesn't know if Dennis understands or not but yes now he's biting down hard, his teeth making dents in Mac's skin, and Mac is gasping himself hoarse and clenching his fingers into Dennis's biceps hard enough to bruise, and just before the point of breaking skin Dennis feels the desperate rocking of Mac's hips against his and draws away with a breathless laugh.

" _Fuck_." Dennis thinks it sounds like a prayer on Mac's lips.

They're burning for each other, blazing like twin suns ready to burst supernova, and Dennis wants to reward Mac for his inspired act of manipulation with more than just messy fumbling handjobs against the wall, so he leads him wobbly-legged to Dennis's bedroom. As they kick off their jeans and underwear, Dennis makes sure Mac is kept well distracted from any mood-killing attacks of catholic guilt by continuing to nip and nibble teasingly at his lips, his ear, his shoulder. His concern proves unnecessary - the only mention of God that crosses Mac's lips is in the blasphemy he blurts out when he looks at Dennis. Although they've fooled around before on occasion, it's always been a hasty scramble of hands sliding under clothes. They've never been naked together before now, and they relish the opportunity to take in every inch of the view.

Despite the almost painful urgency of their straining bodies, Mac and Dennis take their time exploring new territory. Dennis works his way from scratch to bruise to bite mark, caressing each of the injuries he'd inflicted with soft kisses almost unbearably tender after the roughness of a moment ago. Mac tangles his fingers in Dennis's curls, stroking the soft down at the nape of his neck, smoothing his palms down over cords of lean muscle on his back. Dennis is smooth as a girl, allowing no body hair to remain anywhere he doesn't want it, and his skin is pale enough for blue veins to show through it. Mac's hands are rough by comparison, and Dennis arches into his touch joyful and cat-like. Dennis's soft hands run through the sparse tufts of hair on Mac's chest, appreciating the swells and clefts of the muscles he works so hard on. After a while the aching impatience of their erections have them both writhing, and the time for delicate exploration has passed. Tenderness gives way again to insatiable hunger as they finally turn their attention to more pressing matters.

Mac wants Dennis in his mouth, filling his throat, choking him again from the inside this time. He lowers his head to run his tongue up the length of Dennis's dick, his hot breath making Dennis groan, and then he greedily wraps his mouth around. He can feel twitches and shudders jerking it against the roof of his mouth as he draws it further inside, and knows that Dennis's remarkable self-control is dangerously close to falling apart. As he works his tongue wickedly around the head, he feels Dennis's fingers entwined in his hair and is disappointed when his head is jerked away and his mouth is left empty and wet. He looks up at Dennis with a pout. Dennis's eyes are hooded and calm, but his face is deep red and Mac feels the hand in his hair shaking. He's barely holding it together. 

"I've got something else in mind tonight," Dennis explains.

Quick as a snake, Dennis has Mac pinned down on his back. He sits astride Mac's hips so that Mac's dick brushes against Dennis's ass, and shifts himself around a little to watch Mac squirm and gasp. Leaning over to rummage in a drawer beside the bed, he produces lube and a condom (Mac begins to protest at the latter, but Dennis silences him with a glare). Mac lies back against the pillows and watches as Dennis's expert hands roll the condom onto Mac and apply a generous handful of lube. Dennis cackles gleefully as Mac is already bucking his hips up impatiently. 

"Jesus dude, don't blow your load before you even get inside!" he laughs, and Mac curses at him. 

"Now," Dennis continues, positioning himself over Mac's straining cock, "you're going to control yourself and let me set the pace here. I like it to hurt but I want to be able to walk tomorrow, so don't go trying to rush it."

His condescending tone makes Mac want to split him right open just for spite, but he wants Dennis to want to do this again sometime so he nods and takes a deep breath, willing his hips to stay still as Dennis lowers himself onto him. 

Mac has imagined this more times than he would ever admit; he's even dreamed of it, waking up breathless and ashamed, but never even in his most sinful dreams did he imagine it being this good. So tight, like he just barely, perfectly fits, like Dennis was made for him and no-one else, and Dennis biting his lip and groaning as he takes him slowly, slowly, all the way in. Mac thinks that just watching Dennis right now would be enough to send him over the edge, even without the delicious pressure enclosing him. He tries to take in every detail, the way Dennis's closed eyelids flutter as he pushes himself further down to take in every inch, the way he clutches his lip between his teeth until it's white and bloodless, his moans that send a deep rumble all the way down to vibrate through Mac's cock. Mac wishes he had a camera, hopes Dennis is taping this, wonders if Dennis has ever seen himself in this exquisite perfection. When he's completely filled, Dennis opens his eyes, sees Mac's adoring gaze, and grins.

"Ready, baby boy?" 

Dennis rolls his hips experimentally and is rewarded with a desperate moan from Mac. Starting slow, they build their rhythm, Dennis grinding down as Mac arches and bucks uncontrollably beneath him. Mac's hands are braced against Dennis's slim ass, fingertips indenting the flesh as he clutches and thrusts. Dennis is laughing, breathless and exhilarated as he rides harder. As Mac begins to cry out in yelping half-sobs, ragged breath panting and sweat pooling in the little crevasse between his abs, Dennis takes his own dick in one hand and fucks himself in time with Mac. When Mac sees this, he brings up a shaking hand to swat Dennis's away.

"Let me," he gasps, wrapping his own hand around Dennis.

Dennis would usually resent this, knowing that someone else's sloppy attempt couldn't get him off as well as he could, but he's so close now anyway that he nods and continues to thrust into Mac's clumsy fist. He's surprised to find that even though Mac is shaking all over and completely falling apart now, he's actually doing a good job of firmly stroking Dennis's cock at the same time. It's the first time Dennis has ever come simultaneously with anyone. Mac is noisy, shouting Dennis's name like blasphemy, and the sound of his own name spilling out of Mac in such rapture is music to Dennis's ears. Dennis prides himself on his mastery over his body and mind and usually allows himself only a quiet groan, but tonight he can't suppress an unsteady howl of "fuuuck!", which makes a goofy grin spread across Mac's face.

Afterwards, in the brief and wonderful moment when Dennis allows Mac to lie beside him and they spend a few minutes catching their breath with their arms around each other, Mac turns his face towards Dennis (almost going cross-eyed in an effort to look him in the eye from an inch away) and asks in a small voice,

"We're going to be doing that again sometime, right?"

Dennis responds with a wolfish smile. Mac settles down and pulls him closer. That's good enough for him.


End file.
